by mag
Tiger put a finger under her chin and raised her face so that he could look at her. "Is that the only reason you came to Hong Kong, Bethany?" he asked.
She looked into his eyes and for a moment she was tempted to tell him the real reason. But only for a moment. Then she stepped away from him and wiping her eyes said, "Yes, that's the only reason."
Tiger didn't believe her, but he let it go. He put his arm around her and they stood by the railing as the lights of Kowloon grew close.
When they went in to her hotel Tiger meant only to walk her to the elevators, but as they started across the lobby he noticed a Chinese man sitting to one side reading a newspaper. As they passed him he lowered the paper and casually stood up. Tiger's hand tightened on Bethany's arm. He'd seen the man before. A week ago the same man had visited the casino. His bets had been small and Tiger wouldn't have remembered him at all if one of the croupiers hadn't told him that the man had made inquiries about his father.
"He wanted to know if he was the Malone who flew with the Tigers," the croupier said. "I told him I didn't know."
Now the same man was here, waiting in the lobby of Bethany's hotel, and Tiger didn't like it.
When they reached the elevators he said to Bethany, "I'll see you to your door."
"That's not necessary." She tried to step away from him but he kept hold of her arm. The doors opened and they stepped inside. The Chinese man who'd been watching them looked the other way.
At Bethany's door Tiger said, "Be sure to lock your door when you go in."
"Yes, of course." She looked at him curiously. "Is there any particular reason why I should?"
Tiger smiled. "Don't you know that Hong Kong is filled with opium-smoking white slavers?"
Bethany smiled back. "Really? How fascinating. I had an Aunt Christine who used to warn me about white slavers every time I wanted to go to a Saturday matinee."
Tiger's lips twitched. "She did well to warn you." He took her hand. "I will see you tomorrow. Is twelve o'clock agreeable?"
"Twelve o'clock is fine." Bethany looked at him, then away. When she was safely in her room she leaned her back against the door, not sure whether she was relieved or happy that Tiger hadn't tried to kiss her.
The Chinese man was still in the lobby when Tiger got off the elevator. He had a drink beside him now and seemed engrossed in his newspaper. But as Tiger went out the revolving door the man quickly folded his newspaper and rose to follow him.
Chapter 2
Bethany's first conscious thought when she awoke the next morning was of Tiger Malone. With a sleepy sigh she closed her eyes and conjured up his face; hair as black as a crow's wing, high cheekbones and the slight, exotic tilt to the green eyes that made him look so sensually mysterious. He was a little over six feet tall, his body was lean and muscular. Bethany knew almost nothing about him except that he was Bill Malone's son and that he owned a gambling club. But he was the most exciting man she'd ever known and in a little more than three hours she was going to see him again.
Tiger was waiting in the lobby when Bethany came out of the elevator at five minutes to twelve. His glance swept her pink pleated skirt and matching short-sleeved sweater approvingly before he handed her a small package and said, "I took the liberty of buying you a scarf. It will probably be windy where we're going."
"Thank you." She looked at him quickly, then fumbled with the red string as she unwrapped the tissue paper and saw the blue silk scarf.
"It's lovely, Mr. Malone...Tiger. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He took her arm. "We are going to have lunch up at Victoria Peak. You can get a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of just about the whole territory from there. If it's clear we will be able to see some of the South China Sea Islands."
South China Sea Islands. A shiver of excitement ran up Bethany's spine. Hong Kong, Macao, the South China Sea Islands! She took a deep breath, still not quite able to believe she was actually here, feeling more alive than she'd ever felt before as Tiger led her out of the hotel to the pleasantly noisy street.
They spoke little as they walked with the flow of traffic. The streets were thronged with people, many of them tourists, gawking along with Bethany at the shop windows and street displays. When finally they reached the foot of Victoria Peak they took a tram on a shaky, almost vertical ride to the top.
"Better put your scarf on," Tiger said as they stepped out of the tram. "It's usually windy up here."
It was windy—but breathtaking. The view stretched as far as Bethany could see; Hong Kong Harbor and the city lay spread out below, beyond lay the mountains and behind the mountains mainland China.
"This is called Victoria Peak because Hong Kong was acquired by the British during that queen's reign," Tiger told Bethany. "But soon they will leave and China will take over."
"How do you feel about that?" Bethany asked curiously.
"I have mixed feelings." Tiger hesitated. "It's going to be difficult for many of the Hong Kong people. Even though they have been under British rule, they're not wanted in Britain. A lot of the people here fled from mainland China and they fear what will happen to them when China takes over in 1997."
"What about you? Your father was an American. Do you have an American passport?"
Tiger nodded. "But I am not sure that makes me an American. I was born in China. I spoke Chinese before I spoke English. When I finally began to speak English it was with a British-Chinese accent. I went to prep school in England then on to Cambridge." He brushed his wind-ruffled hair back off his forehead. "But that does not make me British either, does it? So if I'm not American or British, what am I? Chinese?" He shook his head. "I get along in China and I love my mother very much, but I don't belong there and I wouldn't want to live there."
"Have you ever been to the United States?"
"Once for a year when I was ten. My father wanted me to go to school in Boston. He was raised there and he had some good memories of the city." Tiger gripped the rail in front of them. "But I don't have good memories. I was the strange boy in school because I didn't look like everybody else. I hated it. I'll never go back."
Only a few moments before Bethany had thought of Tiger Malone as a supremely sophisticated man of the world. Now she saw the hidden hurt and the vulnerability. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort the strange boy who looked just different enough from the other boys to have become the brunt of jibes and jokes. Instead she said, "It's always hard to be either new or different, Tiger. Children can be terrible sometimes." With a quick smile she added, "I have a feeling that things might have changed now. You really ought to give us another chance."
"Perhaps I will some day." Then, ending the conversation, he took her arm and led her into the restaurant. He spoke of other things and while Bethany listened she tried to understand this impeccably dressed man who had been strong enough to share his vulnerability with her. There was something about him, an air of dignity and of an old-world courtliness that was a rare commodity in the twentieth-century male.
When they finished lunch Tiger said, "I thought we might drive out to Repulse Bay." At Bethany's confused look he added, "It's named for a British man-o'-war. The area is a residential district now. I'd like to show you where I live."
Tiger noticed the alarm in her gray eyes, as she hesitated, then looked at her watch and said, "I really should be getting back to the hotel."
For a moment he ached to put his arms around her. There was an aura of innocence about her that excited him, and>he wondered what it would be like to hold her, to kiss those sweetly curved, slightly parted lips.
He took her hand when they left the restaurant and held it all the way down in the tram.
* * *
When they drove around the curve of Repulse Bay Tiger pulled into a turnoff. When he helped Bethany out of the car he recaptured her hand and held it as she gazed out over the harbor.
"That's the entrance to the South China Sea," he said.
"It must be t
he most beautiful view in the world." Bethany took a deep breath as she looked down at the harbor where pleasure boats and sampans bobbed gently on the blue-green water. A little beyond them a yacht was moored, sparkling white against the water, beautifully rich and opulent.
"Wouldn't you like to see where I live?" Tiger asked. Not waiting for an answer he led her back to the car, but instead of driving up to the houses he drove down to the harbor. When he parked and opened her door, Bethany looked at him inquiringly and said, "I thought we were going to your home."
"We are." He motioned to one of the sampans and spoke in Chinese to the old woman who sat cross-legged on the bow. The woman quickly pulled the sampan up to the dock. Tiger took Bethany's hand and helped her into the boat.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To my home." Tiger smiled and pointed to the yacht she'd seen from above.
Bethany stared at him as the sampan maneuvered around the other boats in the harbor, then turned to gaze at the beautiful craft. There was a slight chop to the deep blue water, and overhead white puffs of clouds drifted slowly along.
The sampan approached from the bow and when they were in shouting distance Tiger called out, "Ahoy the Dragon! A Chinese man appeared, saluted, then quickly lowered a boarding ramp. She took the man's proffered hand as Tiger said, "This is Miss Bethany Adams, Chang. Bethany, this is Chang Lu, my number one man."
"How do you do?" Bethany said as the man bowed.
"Welcome to the Golden Dragon, Miss Adams," Chang Lu said with a British accent. "Let me help you aboard." Then to Tiger he said, "Why didn't you let me know you were coming? Lee would have prepared lunch."
"We've already had lunch, but if I can persuade Miss Adams to stay we would like a light supper later."
Chang bowed. "I will tell Lee." He motioned to Bethany. "Please, come this way. It is cooler inside."
Bethany walked across the teak deck and stepped through sliding glass doors onto a thick red carpet. A large, L-shaped white sofa decorated with gold pillows and flanked by two white chairs dominated the room. A bowl of scarlet poppies rested on a lacquer coffee table, and there were matching gold lily lamps on either side of the sofa. Chinese paintings decorated the walls; beneath one there was an ornately carved Chinese trunk, beneath the other a desk. At the far end of the room there was a stairway.
"The stairway leads to a lounge," Tiger said. "It's a pleasant place to watch television and have a drink when the weather is bad. The dining room is up there too, but if it's warm tonight we will eat outside on the aft deck. The sunsets in this part of the world are spectacular."
Everything's spectacular, Bethany thought.
"May I fix you a drink?" Chang asked.
"No, thank you."
"Then why don't we have coffee?" Tiger took Bethany's hand and led her to the sofa. "What do you think of my home?" he asked with a smile.
"It's beautiful! How long have you lived here?"
"For almost three years. I bought it at a very good price from one of my customers who was having a streak of bad luck. I didn't plan to live on it. Then when I did I thought it would be only for a month or two, until I sold it. Chang and Lee were on the boat when I bought it and I asked them to stay on." He smiled at Bethany. "They spoiled me. I found that this was a haven, far enough away from the club to give me a feeling of escape. I keep an apartment in Macao, but this as my home."
"Do you take trips... cruises, I mean?"
"Once in a while. The Dragon's a sixty-three-foot Hatteras, built to go anywhere, but so far I've only taken short cruises. Sometime I'd like to take a longer trip."
Chang brought a silver tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. "I brought the Spanish brandy and some fruit that I thought Miss Adams might enjoy."
"Thank you, Chang," Tiger said as the Chinese man bowed and left the salon. When they were alone he poured Bethany's coffee and turning to her said, "Now, why don't you tell me the real reason you came to Hong Kong?"
Bethany's eyes widened. Tiger had taken her off guard and for a moment she was too surprised to answer. She studied Tiger over the rim of her coffee cup. She didn't know him very well, but there was something about him that inspired trust. Her father had told her to give the letter and the key to Bill Malone. Bill Malone was dead, but his son was alive.
"My father wrote a letter to your father," she said at last. "That's why I came to Hong Kong. He wanted me to give the letter to him." She hesitated, then she opened her purse, took out the letter and handed it to Tiger.
He held it for a moment, then slit the letter open with his thumbnail. When he saw the gold key his hand tightened around it and he shot a quick look at Bethany. "Would you like to read the letter, or shall I?"
"You read it, please." Bethany's hands were shaking.
Tiger nodded and began to read aloud:
"Dear Bill,
"It's been a long time. I've been meaning to write for a year but I kept waiting for things to get better. But things aren't getting better so before my time runs out I'd better tell you how it is.
"I told you the last time I wrote that my flying school was doing real well. But a year ago a big outfit from Chicago came to town and damn near ruined me. I might have been able to hold out if it hadn't been for liability insurance. That broke my back, Bill, and I had to throw the towel in. Then six months ago, Mary Elizabeth had surgery and just as she started feeling better she had a stroke. She's in a nursing home now and the doctors say it's only a matter of time for her."
Tiger glanced up at Bethany. "That's your mother?"
She nodded, unable to speak as she clasped her hands together.
Tiger covered her hands with one of his, then continued.
"When things start going downhill they seem to pick up speed, old buddy. I started feeling like hell right about the time I found out about Mary Elizabeth. A couple of weeks ago the doc told me I had about three months left. That's why I'm writing this letter. I'm giving it to my daughter and I want her to take it to you.
"Bethy's a real good girl, Bill. But her mother and I have overprotected her and I just don't know how she's going to do on her own. One thing for damn sure, she's going to be stone-cold broke. That's why I'm sending her to you, partner. It's time to go after the dragon.
"I know we said we wouldn't go after it unless we were desperate. Well I guess I'm just about as desperate as a man can get. I'm dying and Bethy's mother needs more money for her care than I can manage. I want my little girl taken care of. I know going after the dragon will be risky, but if you can get it and get out all in one piece you and Su Ching and your son and Bethy will be set for life. You take care of my girl, Bill, she's all that's left of me and Mary Elizabeth. She's the best of both of us."
Tiger laid the letter on the lacquer table. He looked at Bethany, saw the glint of tears in her eyes, and poured a splash of brandy into one of the glasses and handed it to her.
When she had taken a sip she asked, "Do you know anything about the dragon?"
Tiger nodded. "I heard my father speak of it to my mother. But whenever he did, her face would stiffen and she'd become angry. When I was older he told me stories about it. I guess that's why I named the club and this boat the Golden Dragon.
He got up suddenly and went to stand before one of the windows. He looked out and for a long moment he didn't speak.
It was quiet in the salon. Bethany could feel the slight motion of the waves and hear the splash of water against the hull when a boat headed out of the harbor. She swirled the brandy in her snifter, waiting for Tiger to speak.
Finally he turned to her and said, "I asked you once if your father ever spoke of the time he spent in China with the Flying Tigers. Do you know anything at all about those days, Bethany?"
She shook her head. "I know Dad was one of the Flying Tigers, but that's about all because he never seemed to want to talk about it. I've read about the Tigers, enough to know that General Chennault formed the group to help Chiang Kai-s
hek against the Japanese. Dad mentioned once that at first he flew out of a place called Hengchow and that later the head-quarters were in Kunming. I've seen pictures of the planes—with the shark mouths painted on them but I never understood why they used a shark if they were called Flying Tigers."
"The tiger is the national symbol of China," he explained, "and the shark was considered bad luck to the maritime Japanese." He came back to the sofa and stood looking down at her for a moment. "Those were dangerous years, Bethany," he said at last. "Half of the planes the men flew looked as though they belonged in a museum. Most of the time they couldn't get spare parts; they went into the air on the proverbial wing and a prayer. The runways were almost as dangerous as the Japanese. It took sixty days for 120,000 coolies to scratch out a runway in Hengchow."
Tiger's black brows came together in a frown as he shook his head. "Can you imagine what it must have been like? How dangerous it was'trying to fight an aerial war in those beat-up, patched-up planes? Landing on bumpy, rock-strewn airstrips in the middle of nowhere?"
Tiger poured a small amount of brandy for himself and drank it down. "But the Tigers hung on, even when Shanghai fell in 1937 and Chungking became the Nationalist war capital. What they lacked in military discipline they made up for in courage." He took her hand. "Our fathers were brave men; they did a lot of things we should be proud of."
Her eyes were moist. "I know," she said in a shaky voice,
"But they did other things, things that were not always honorable, that in those days were an accepted way of life."
"I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"
"That both of our fathers engaged in smuggling."
"Smuggling?" Bethany glared at him. "They may have traded on the black market but that wasn't really smuggling."
"Wasn't it? Whatever you choose to call it, Bethany, it was illegal. They smuggled jewels, works of art, gold and fine silks. They made a lot of money, enough for both of our fathers to go into business after the war."